





FUNERAL SERMON, 



PREACHED AT PITTSFIELD, 



SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 6, 1831 



, iewx, 



OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH 



OF THE 



HON. JOHN CHANDLER WILLIAMS, 



WHO DEPARTED THIS LIFE, JANUARY 31, 1831 



BY G. T. CHAPMAN, D. D. 



BOSTON, 

STIMPSON AND CLAPP, 72, WASHINGTON STREET. 

1831. 




Class JLXSJV^L 






FUNERAL SERMON, 



PREACHED AT PITTSFIELD, 



SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 6, 1831 : 



OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH 



HON. JOHN CHANDLER WILLIAMS, 



WHO DEPARTED THIS LIFE, JANUARY 31, 1831. 



• '-* — 



• BY G. 1 T. CHAPMAN, 13 . B> 



BOSTON, 

STIMPSON AND CLAPP, 72, WASHINGTON STREET. 

1831. 



^ <& 



♦V 

3 



TO 

Mrs. LUCRETIA WILLIAMS, 

TO 

EDWARD A. and SARAH T. NEWTON, 

The greatly respected Widow, Son-in-law, and Daughter 

OF THE LATE 

Hon. JOHN CHANDLER WILLIAMS, 

this Discourse is affectionately inscribed, 

by their devoted and gratefully obliged friend, 

THE AUTHOR. 

Pittsfield, Feb. 7th, 1831. 



FREEMAN AND BOLLES, PRINTERS. 



LC Control Number 




tmp96 028899 



SERMON 



Psalm xxxix. 5. 

Behold thou hast made my days as a hand-breadth and mine age is as 
nothing before thee, verily every man at his best state is altogether vanity. 

While no part of the providence of God is susceptible of more 
complete and invincible demonstration than the brevity and un- 
certainty of human life, it is still melancholy to reflect, that few 
persons are in the habit of yielding up their minds unreservedly 
to this conviction. Friend after friend, relative after relative are 
continually hastening to the common receptacle appointed for all 
the living, and while the hearse is yet before our eyes ; while the 
mournful vacancy in our own domestick circle is yet to be made 
familiar to our feelings by the lenient hand of time, tears may 
fall and sighs be heaved ; we may think of the once smiling 
features that are now composed, the once active limbs that are 
now stiffened, by the frost of death, and the reflection may serve 
to remind us, that soon, far sooner than we could wish, our own 
pall will come sweeping by ; our own dark grave be filled with 
its unconscious clay. But ah ! how rapidly do these impressions 
wear away ! How quickly does the eye forget to weep, and 
the full heart to throb ! How nimbly speed the hours, in which 
we resume our accustomed gayety, with all the recent confi- 
dence we entertained of long days of joy and prosperity before us ! 
And certainly, were it possible to delay the summons of death 
by refusing to contemplate the proximity of his approach, I 
would be among the last to reveal the grisly features of this King 
of Terrours : I would not be the preacher to tell you, that his 
lance is ever couched, his pale charger ever fleet on the course 
to extend his triumphs, wherever there is an eye to be deprived 
of its lustre, or a heart to become cold and still forever. But 
as it is, conscious as I am, conscious as you must be, that 
God hath made our days, as it were a span long ; that our age 



is even as nothing in respect of Him, and that every man living 
is altogether vanity ; — it becomes me seriously and solemnly to 
break the spell, in which health and vigour are too apt to involve 
the precious soul, and, taking advantage of the recent instance of 
mortality, to bid you remember that our days upon earth are as 
a shadow, and that there is none abiding. 

For this purpose, recollect, in the first place, the immense num- 
bers who have preceded you in the march of time, and assure 
yourselves of the certainty of death from the conviction, that they 
once lived free as the freest and gay as the gayest of mankind. 
Before the blood of righteous Abel cried from the ground against 
his murderer, there was indeed no such thing as the return of the 
body to the earth as it was. But, compared with all that now 
breathe the vital air, it is long since death, in his progress to univer- 
sal empire, hath obtained the majority of our frail and perishing 
race. Centuries on centuries have elapsed. Multitudes on 
multitudes, of all nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues, 
which no man could number, have throughout successive ages 
enjoyed the same genial sun with us. They have been sustained 
in food and raiment from the same prolifick earth, and, to no 
other being than the same God, were they indebted for whatever 
imparted pleasure to their senses or joy to their hearts. 

And yet, where are they now ? Our fathers, where are they ? 
Where, the almost infinite throng of mortals, who once thought, 
and felt, and acted their part in life, as we are accustomed to 
think, and feel, and act ? Gone, brethren, forever gone, pre- 
cisely where we are going ; where there is no voice to disturb 
their slumbers ; no work to engage the labour of their hands ; no 
mind to inform the gross particles of matter, which in other days, 
beneath the effulgent splendour of the great luminary of heaven, 
were full of life and animation. 

See you not, therefore, the inevitable destiny which awaits all 
the sons and daughters of men ? See you not, that if, generation 
after generation, the long lines of our ancestors have been com- 
pelled to submit to the last enemy, without a single survivor to 
connect the chain of human existence, — so, in process of time, 
we in our turn must become his victims, let our pleas for life be 
ever so strong, our reluctance to die ever so violent ? 

In process of time, did I say ? Even now, the mandate of 
the destroyer may be issued ; even now, that fatal arrow on the 



wing, which shall sever our souls from time, and transmit them 
with the rapidity of lightning, beyond the confines of eternity. 
Thither, at any rate, we are all progressing, and whether our 
continuance here be comparatively long or short, every year, 
and month, and day advance us nearer and nearer to our jour- 
ney's end. Our lives indeed resemble those streams, which, 
having once escaped from their native hills, can never return to 
the fountain head, but must necessarily glide down their respect- 
ive channels, until at length, in proportion to their original 
distance and the celerity of the current, they are destined to 
mingle with the waters of the great deep. 

How important, then, to grow in wisdom as we grow in age. 
How infinitely important, to prepare with the utmost diligence to 
meet our God, as the eventful period steals on apace, in which 
all preparation will be foreclosed in the silent regions of the 
dead. For although many of us maybe inclined to lavish away 
the first and fairest moments of our existence under the idea of 
a future and ample space for repentance, — there is still no more 
melancholy spectacle to be gazed at, than the unhappy being, for 
whom the grave is always ready, the worm reserving his vora- 
cious appetite, and who can still be enamoured with trifles, 
playing as it were upon the very brink of destruction : who can 
harden his heart against the many admonitions of the Scriptures, 
requiring instant and persevering efforts to enter in at the strait 
gate ; and scarcely think of his God and Saviour with any other 
emotions than those of stupid languor or criminal indifference. 

Especially when we come to reflect in the second place upon 
the apparent pleasure with which the grim messenger delights to 
take the wise in their own craftiness, and thus to baffle all cal- 
culations, formed with the view of determining the number of 
our days. How often, for example, have you witnessed the 
most melancholy and loathsome objects of disease to creep on ' 
through life with the leisurely pace of a snail, while the strong 
and vigorous have fallen on your right hand and on your left 
with the ease and rapidity of grass before the mower's sithe. 
How often have you seen the hoar frost of years to blanch yet 
whiter and whiter the locks of age, when thousands and fens of 
thousands of the young and blooming have been destined to fill 
an early grave. How often have you observed parental eyes to 
be suffused with tears, when, contrary to all reasonable expecta- 



lion, children have led the way to eternity, and imposed upon 
the authors of their being the mournful office of smoothing the 
asperities of a dying bed. 

Oh yes, brethren, these are some few of the many incongrui- 
ties, so frequently exhibited throughout the vast empire of death, 
that we might well brand him with the name of a cruel and 
inexorable tyrant, rejoicing in every opportunity to reveal his 
power where least desired, and least expected ; we might well 
do this, — were it not that his career is controlled by infinite 
wisdom ; and, whether he rifles the blossoms of youth, or gathers 
the ripened fruit of age ; whether he gives timely notice of the 
coming storm, or flashes upon our heads like a meteor in the 
calm evening of a summer's day; — in either event, God him- 
self is the benevolent Being, who directs this archer to bend his 
bow, and transfix his arrows in the heart of infancy or youth, of 
manhood or declining years. 

And why ? For the very substantial reason, that the acknow- 
ledged uncertainty of life might teach us, under every circum- 
stance of time and place, to consider our latter end. It is as 
though He were to declare to the young man, however ardent 
in expectation and confident of sailing uninjured down the stream 
of time, — Thy vessel is frail. The rocks are even now lurk- 
ing beneath its prow ; and examples are not wanting to prove 
that before this day's sun declines in the west, the waters may 
go over thy soul. It is as though He were to arrest the atten- 
tion of parents, and say unto them, however numerous their 
offspring and however desirable their nurture beneath a father's 
and a mother's care, — Think not that ye have obtained a longer 
lease of life, because I have blessed thee with children : Think 
not that my designs will be frustrated in respect of them because 
you may be shortly required to make your bed in death. Have 
I not many ages since announced myself to be the father of the 
fatherless ? And when I am known to feed the young ravens 
of the valley, shall I not much more protect the orphan and 
supply the absence of parental love ? 

And then as to you, ye votaries of the world, however 
involved in pleasure or immersed in business ; it is as though he 
were to remind you with an audible voice, that time and eternity 
wait for no man; that your joys may be withered and your 
fortune transferred to other hnnds, at the precise instant when 



every thing looks most fair and tempting to the eye, most pros- 
perous and redundant to the grasp. For whether we give heed 
to his summons or not, death is perpetually making his inroads 
upon all ranks and ages. There are none who can with impu- 
nity deride his power. But every avenue of hope is thronged 
with his arrows, and every period of life liable to be intercepted 
by his indiscriminate sithe. So teach us, therefore, O Lord, to 
number our days that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom. 
Full of confidence in thee, we may well dismiss all anxiety as 
to the extent of our earthly pilgrimage. Inspired by thy Spirit, 
enlightened by thy Word, and devoted to the faith and example 
of thy Son, we may well rejoice in the conviction, that for us 
' to live is Christ, and to die is gain.' 

Which leads me, in the third place, to call up to your remem- 
brance, the wonderful change effected by the advent and con- 
summation of death. And here it is not my intention to ransack 
the pages of history for materials to evince the fading character 
of those hues which beam from a regal diadem. I rather feel 
that when eternity commences, every thing connected with a 
splendid court and gorgeous palace vanishes away like an agree- 
able dream when one awaketh. I am conscious, that at this 
awful moment the meanest beggar can shake hands with the 
mightiest monarch, can claim the same little spot of earth, and 
be as courteously received at the bar of judgment by the august 
King of Kings and Lord of Lords. 

But aside from these considerations and regarding all men 
upon terms of strict equality, what a mournful catastrophe is 
that, which locks up the senses in oblivion, and robs the body of 
its active, intelligent, and immortal soul. The soul perhaps of 
those we loved : Of the friend, whose heart ever beat in unison 
with ours : The kind, indulgent parent, who trained us up from 
childhood with all the fervour and the interest of natural affec- 
tion : The companion of our bosoms, endeared to our hearts by 
the thousand and ten thousand times ten thousand fond remem- 
brances of domestick love : Or, those young and tender offspring, 
in whom we seemed to renew the days of our youth, and to be 
prqDaring our principal sources of joy and consolation against 
the wintry evening of our years. 

But alas ! both friend and relative are no longer present to 
cheer and animate us in this vale of tears. They have utterly 



forsaken the places, which once knew them ; and what a melan- 
choly catastrophe, I repeat, is that, which locks up the senses in 
oblivion, and robs the body of its active, intelligent, and immortal 
soul ! Prone in the dust, and clothed in the garments of cor- 
ruption is the form we were wont to embrace in the arms of 
fond affection. Dumb and tuneless is that voice, which once 
thrilled to the very bottom of our hearts, and that was echoed 
back again by the answering tones of sympathy. Sunk in its 
hollow socket, and shrouded in darkness is the eye, that once 
sparkled with pleasure, and that delighted to exchange the 
glance of mutual endearment. Still and cold, and offensive to 
the sight are those lively features, that were once indicative of 
a like lively heart ; a heart, that was pervaded with the kindest 
feelings, that was in perfect harmony with every chord in the 
musick of love, and is now converted into the food of worms. 

Yes, brethren, these are undoubtedly some few of the more 
obvious trophies, which the monarch of the tombs displays in 
his dismal abodes ; and yet, gloomy and even loathsome as is 
their exteriour, they are far from comprising all the consequences 
resulting from the transition out of life into the dark valley and 
region of the shadow of death. I am rather compelled to speak 
to you of another and far more important change ; a change 
that affects the soul alone, and that requires of every candidate 
for eternity to choose with promptness and decision between that 
punishment of sin on the one hand, and that recompense of 
righteousness on the other, which will respectively experience 
no period to their duration. 

Are any of you then beguiling yourselves in the arms of 
pleasure, or indulging visions of ideal felicity in the slumber of 
spiritual death ? Contemplate, I entreat you, that swift advancing 
hour, when the dissolution of nature shall disperse every fancied 
dream of security, when it shall obliterate all the illusions con- 
nected with the pleasures of sin, and so awake all the terrours 
of the soul, that it shall never sleep again. All the various 
means of grace have heretofore been insufficient for the purpose. 
You have given little or no heed to the voice of conscience. 
You have either rejected or idly mused over the pages of the 
Bible, and to the remonstrances of the preacher, whether founded 
on its lifegiving doctrines, or upon the most mournful scenes of 
mortality, you have turned a deaf and impervious ear. But 



when your last, great change shall come, if it he not preceded 
by repentance towards God, by faith in the Redeemer, and 
charity with all the world ; believe me, there is not one of your 
souls, which will not be roused to the most appalling realities, 
and forever experience what a fearful thing it is to fall into the 
hands of the living God. 

Are you however, brethren, already affianced to this gracious 
Being in the bonds of an everlasting covenant ? Have you 
already accepted those overtures of redeeming grace, which 
dawned upon the world at the advent of Christ, and that are 
indorsed with promises which centre in his merits and obedience, 
his cross and passion, his glorious resurrection and ascension ? 
When that great event shall at length transpire, which will sur- 
render your immortal souls into the hands of a merciful and 
benign Creator and Judge : Oh what long cycles of revolving 
bliss will immediately commence their unclouded reign. How 
inconceivably bright and radiant will be the glories that beam 
from the throne and presence of God. With what unutterable 
joy will you chant the song of triumph to the eternal Majesty of 
heaven; to Him, who created; Him, who redeemed; Him, 
who hath sanctified you, and all the inheritors of the kingdom of 
glory. 

These therefore, Christian friends and brethren, are those 
views upon the certainty of death, upon the dubious character 
of its approach, and the present and everlasting change accom- 
panying it, that I have judged it expedient to offer on one of 
those occasions, in which the Supreme Disposer of events is 
pleased to remind us, that he has made our days as it were a 
span long, that our age is even as nothing in respect of him, and 
that every man living is altogether vanity. To you, they may 
be profitable. To him whose days are numbered, they can 
neither be instrumental in quickening the sense of duty, nor in 
saving the soul alive. His appointed time is passed ; his medita- 
tions upon death ; his preparations to meet it in the prospect of 
a succeeding eternity, have come to an end. We have con- 
signed his mortal relicks to their long home, and happy, thrice 
happy are his surviving relatives in the reflection that his pure 
spirit has doubtless gone to repose forever in the bosom of the 
Saviour he loved; the God he adored. Sometimes we are 
called to mourn the loss of those, for whose future welfare, we 
can barely hope ; sometimes even hope itself is abandoned, and 
despairing thoughts however involuntary spring up in the mind 
2 



10 

and deprive us of the best consolations connected with the 
bereavements of providence. But in this case, for him whose 
body lies in that mouldering tomb, praised be God, no sorrows 
of the kind oppress the heart; -praised be God, his interment is 
only regarded as the necessary prelude to a joyful resurrection. 

John Chandler Williams, the subject of this brief memoir, 
and of whom I am about to speak upon the authority of those 
who knew him well, was born in the town of Roxbury, in this 
Commonwealth, in the year one thousand seven hundred and 
fifty-five. His parents sustained a highly respectable character, 
and the son, tenderly cherishing the memory of their virtues, 
often spoke of the assiduity with which they implanted in his 
youthful mind, the seeds of piety and religion, which were at 
length destined to germinate and bring forth in him the peaceable 
fruits of righteousness. 

And this was the only legacy they left him. Becoming 
reduced in circumstances, they were unable to gratify his early 
passion for intellectual attainments, and he came to this very 
county as early as the year sixty -nine, with the view of engag- 
ing in some more active and enterprising occupation. But what 
can dampen the ardour of aspiring minds ? What control the 
laudable ambition of gaining renown in a liberal profession? 
Most of the valuable men of every age have been the architects 
of their own fame, and the deceased impelled by the same inward 
excitement rose superiour to his humble fortunes; the love 
of letters returning, he cultivated the elementary pursuit of them 
with intense application, and in due time became one of the sons 
of Harvard. 

In this celebrated institution, notwithstanding the difficulties 
by which he was surrounded, though in the true spirit of a mind 
panting for distinction, he disdained not to ring the college bell 
for the paltry sum which was to assist in defraying his expenses ; 
in this celebrated institution, he passed through the usual aca- 
demick course, and at the time of his graduation in seventeen 
hundred and seventy-eight was rewarded for his proficiency as 
a scholar with the latin oration, one of the first honours bestowed 
in our seminaries of learning. 

Soon after this, he commenced the study of the law in the 
office of that distinguished jurist, the late Hon. John Worthington, 
of Springfield. To the acquisition of its elementary and practical 
principles he now applied himself with unwearied energy, and 
having completed the term of his novitiate, he entered upon the 



11 

practice of the profession, in this town, in the year one thousand 
seven hundred and eighty-two. As a lawyer his standing was 
more than respectable. His mind was richly stored with legal 
knowledge, and of that knowledge he availed himself with the 
noble determination to be useful rather than splendid in his day 
and generation. How well he succeeded in the effort is not 
passed from the memory of thousands. He was not the man 
to stir up petty suits, to fan the embers of a litigious spirit, and 
in this manner embroil the peace of society. But fair minded, 
just, and conscientious in the discharge of his duties, he acquired 
the esteem of the court, bar, and jury; he so ingratiated himself 
in the confidence of the community around him, by the integrity 
of his conduct, as to be proverbially and emphatically eulogized 
as 'the honest lawyer.' God grant, that excited by his example 
and emulous of his well-earned fame, there may be numbers to 
follow in his footsteps, and be gratified with the like discriminat- 
ing praise. Surrounded as it is with numerous temptations, 
rendering it extremely difficult always to preserve the path of 
rectitude, the law is still a noble profession, and is well entitled 
to enlist in its service the brightest intellects and the purest 
hearts. 

To his indefatigable attention to business the deceased was 
indebted for the ample competency of this world's goods, which 
enabled him to occupy a front rank in the list of our publick- 
spirited and patriotick citizens. Shunning the dangers attendant 
upon a too eager thirst for riches, and recoiling from the idea of 
involving the property of others in visionary projects of personal 
aggrandizement ; he yet contrived by industrious habits, by fidel- 
ity to his employers, and a commendable system of economy, 
not only to relieve himself from the pecuniary embarrassments 
of early life, not only to make abundant provision for the wife of 
his bosom and the children of his love ; but at the same time 
gradually to acquire that, for which so many strive and strive in 
vain, an independent fortune. And he deserved it ; such was the 
munificence of his spirit, that he richly deserved it. If men of his 
description were not to be found, there would be no exertions 
made to promote the general prosperity ; our country would be 
a blank in the republick of letters and philosophy ; not a college 
would attract the eye of the mind, not a church would lift up its 
ambitious spire to the heavens, not one single eleemosynary 
institution open wide its portals for the relief of the sick and dis- 
eased, the poor and destitute. 



12 

To the praise of your late fellow townsman, then, be it remem- 
bered, that he was always an active and liberal contributor to 
every object, that promised to enhance the common good. 
Your own town, in particular, has often witnessed, has often 
applauded his generous efforts in its favour, and long as this 
village, so beautifully imbosomed in the mountains, can boast of 
a publick square, of unusually large dimensions, so long will the 
name of Williams be borne in the memory of future generations 
as one of its most liberal benefactors. 

In a political attitude, before the period of high party excite- 
ment, he enjoyed the general esteem, and was for six years, 
five of which were consecutive, honoured with a seat in the 
legislature of the state ; and if afterwards he had the misfortune 
to differ in opinion from the majority of his immediate fellow 
citizens, so as no longer to command their suffrages, yet could 
they give him ample credit for the sincerity of his views, for the 
zeal they inspired, and the frankness with which they were 
maintained. No one felt, that he was a dark, designing intriguer, 
a restless or ambitious demagogue. Every one, not bereft of 
reason and candour, must readily perceive that on all such 
subjects there is room enough for an honest diversity of sentiment 
among the true friends of their country, without resorting to the 
wretched expedient of impeaching secret motives or blasting 
private reputation. 

But politicks are not to my taste ; I gladly abandon their far 
too irritable precincts and hasten to contemplate the character of 
your departed friend and neighbour in a point of view which is 
destined to survive when every thing else is buried in the grave. 
He was a Christian. After years of serious meditation, with 
pungent convictions of sin, and fully persuaded of the absolute 
necessity of being transformed by the renewing of his mind, he 
at length united with the congregational church in this place, in 
the year eighteen hundred and nine. As yet, however, he was 
far from enjoying that peace of God, which passeth all under- 
standing. Accustomed to hear, presented in their most rigid 
and revolting features, what are strangely miscalled the doctrines 
of grace, rather than those of arbitrary power, he felt that 
through them the bruised reed was broken, the smoking flax 
was quenched ; he could not devest himself of the dreadful im- 
pression, that for him there was no such thing as reconciliation 
with his offended God ; that he was indeed preordained of 
heaven to be a vessel of wrath fitted for destruction. 



13 

But, by the divine blessing, these ill-judged and degrading 
views of the Supreme Being were not fated to continue. De- 
termined to renounce the mere guidance of men, and no longer 
to receive implicitly the soul-harrowing divinity of the day, he 
applied himself more diligently and prayerfully than before to the 
study of those Scriptures, which are alone able to make us wise 
unto salvation. And the result was happier conceptions of the 
divine character and government. Instead of a despotick and 
capricious God, creating some men for the express purpose of 
saving, and others with the like intention of damning, them forever, 
he found to his inexpressible joy, that he was a God of love and 
compassion, whose tender mercies were over all his works, who 
spared not his own Son. but gave him up for us all, under the 
solemn assurance of the Apostle, that having done thus, ' how 
much more shall he not also with him freely give us all things ? 
And now succeeded beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourn- 
ing, and the garments of praise for the spirit of heaviness.' He 
received Jesus in the light of an all-sufficient and gracious Re- 
deemer. Renouncing self, with the righteousness and the wor- 
thiness of self, he reposed all his confidence in His merits and 
obedience, his precious death and sufferings, his advocacy and 
intercession with the Father. The fruits of the Spirit commenc- 
ed their unclouded reign in his soul. With him, there were 
Move, joy, peace, long suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, 
meekness, temperance ; against such there is no law.' With 
all ' that are Christ's, he crucified the flesh, with the affections 
and lusts.' He 'lived in the Spirit,' and he 'walked in the 
Spirit.' 

To enumerate a few of his graces. He was a man of prayer, 
of secret, fervent, and continual prayer. Since his departure, 
it has been my happiness to obtain unquestionable evidence of 
this essential trait in the Christian profession. I have seen the 
manual of his private devotions, and soiled by frequent use, filled 
with marginal notes and written collects, expressive of the deep 
humility, the childlike simplicity, the confiding faith, and ardent 
piety of his soul ; it affords brilliant testimony, that his conver- 
sation was in heaven, whence also he looked for the Lord Jesus 
Christ ; that his heart and his treasure were there. 

He was a follower of Christ, where he says, ' learn of me, for 
I am meek, and lowly in heart, and ye shall find rest to your 
souls.' There was nothing proud, arrogant, and boastful in his 
religion. He indulged not in hard speeches, odious comparisons, 



14 

or foul antipathies. Nor was he forever discoursing of himself, 
forever recounting the raptures of his spirit, and dwelling with 
ecstasy on the pretensions of the Pharisee, ' God, I thank thee, 
that I am not as other men are ;' but his piety was modest and 
unobtrusive, he imitated the devotion and felt the contrition of 
the publican in the gospel ; he ' would not lift up so much as his 
eyes unto heaven,' but ' smote upon his breast, saying, God be 
merciful unto me a sinner.' 

In obedience to the positive injunction of Christ, he also 
'loved his neighbour as himself.' Never did he 'turn away his 
face from any poor man.' ' If a brother or sister were naked 
and destitute of daily food,' never did he say unto them, in the 
mockery of affected compassion, ' depart in peace, be ye warmed 
and filled,' without offering to ' give them those things which are 
needful to the body.' But he was generous and humane, his 
heart was productive, and his hands were replete, with liberal 
alms. Without absolutely confining himself to that specifick 
amount, he is yet known to have conscientiously devoted a tenth 
part of his income to charitable purposes. He had no sympathy 
for the dissolute and vagrant beggar, but discriminating in his 
benevolence, the deserving were met with the smile of welcome, 
they were relieved, and are doubtless hereafter destined to ' rise 
up and call him blessed.' 

As a husband, he was kind, gentle, and engaging ; as a brother, 
amiable, confiding, and generous ; as a father, tender, affection- 
ate, and benign, he 'brought up his children in the nurture and 
admonition of the Lord.' He spared no expense to make them 
accomplished women. He refrained not from those pious 
counsels, which were designed, and whose tendency it was, to 
win them over to the standard and cross of their Redeemer. 
And out of three beloved daughters, were two, by infinite wis- 
dom removed from his truly paternal bosom to sleep in Jesus ? 
A pang thrilled through his soul from which he never entirely 
recovered. It is even supposed to have been the proximate 
cause, to which is to be attributed the melancholy fact, that 
towards the close of an exemplary life, reason reeled, a cloud 
passed over the faculties he had borne so meekly, and his 
fair, open, and ingenuous mind became the prey of darkness 
and oblivion. 

To this period, he had continued a diligent attendant upon 
the means of grace, in the society to which he was originally 
united. But 1 am particularly instructed to say, that after a 



15 

serious examination of the ministry, worship, and doctrine of 
the Protestant Episcopal Church, he became a sincere convert 
to her views of the institutions of the gospel, her exemplifications 
of the faith and practice of a Christian ; and that he moreover 
repeatedly and solemnly avowed his determination to declare 
himself of her communion, should the opportunity occur, by the 
introduction of her services in the place of his residence. Would 
to God, that a similar spirit, a similar renunciation of the pre- 
judices of birth and education, could pervade the hearts of all 
evangelical Christians ! The ways of Zion would no longer 
mourn because of divided minds and separate establishments. 
Paul's admonition would no longer apply, ' Now I beseech you 
brethren, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that ye all speak 
the same thing, and that there be no divisions among you ; but 
that ye be perfectly joined together in the same mind and in the 
same judgment.' Peace and harmony would rather revive in 
the mystical body of Christ; she would attract all eyes and 
satisfy all hearts ; ' her righteousness would go forth as brightness 
and her salvation as a lamp that burneth.' In the last lingering 
days of your departed friend, and during the intervals of the 
derangement which oppressed him, be it long remembered to 
the praise of the church, that some of her most solemn prayers 
were distinctly heard to be breathed from his trembling lips, and 
addressed to the throne of grace, in the name of her crucified 
Bridegroom and ascended Lord. 

In concluding this brief survey, to adopt the language of his 
most intimate friend, 'the conduct as a Christian' of him whose 
loss we deplore, 'was exemplary and settled, even, calm, and 
active ; proving by a course of holy obedience the love he bore 
his Saviour ; neither carried away with the wild vagaries and 
extravagances, which consider frames and feelings the sum of 
all religion, nor yet degrading the glorious Christian faith, by 
making works the meritorious proof of his having a part in it; 
but taking the whole Word of God, as the pillar and ground of 
his faith, his confidence, and his duty, he never for a moment 
lost sight of the true panoply of the Christian, Jesus Christ and 
him crucified, Jesus taken by wicked hands and crucified and 
slain, Jesus dead and buried, Jesus risen again and ascended up 
into heaven, very God of very God ; him he loved, him he 
served, he trusted in him, and, as we confidently believe, will 
not be disappointed of his hope.' 
. On the whole, therefore, brethren, we cannot refrain from 



16 

praising God in the comfortable persuasion that his removal has 
been ordered in mercy, and consummated in peace. The 
thought should prevail with all of you to act the same part in 
life. To the aged of your number, especially his old friends 
and acquaintance, let me present his blameless example as a 
powerful stimulus, if impenitent and unconverted, to seek the 
Lord while he may be found, and to call upon him when he is 
near ; if already penitent and believing, to grow in grace as he 
grew, that so ye may be able, long as reason remains, to cherish 
the same bright presentiments of eternal life. 

And ye mourners, are ye conscious, as ye have a right to be, 
that the Almighty has not frowned in displeasure upon his serv- 
ant ; but rather taken unto himself the righteous, that he may 
encircle his brows with the crown of glory and of triumph ? No 
happier reflection can possibly be left to such as feel, that in his 
demise, the strongest bonds of affection and consanguinity are 
rent in twain. It is enough and may it prove enough to cheer 
the heart of the widow in her loneliness. Bereaved partner of 
his joys and sorrows ! Be thine the comfort of the God of all 
comfort and consolation. And I ask no more for the sister, 
the son-in-law and daughter of his warm affection . The true 
balm for the afflicted is ever found i n Gilead. The true physi- 
cian to bind up the wounds of the soul ever liveth in the distant 
country of Immanuel. To Him then, to his open and embracing 
arms, let all that mourn confidingly repair. True it is that your 
beloved relative has liquidated the great debt of nature. But as 
ye have heard, standing at the place of sepulture, with your 
thoughts musing on the vanity of all earthly things, ' Blessed are 
the dead, which die in the Lord, from henceforth, yea saith the 
spirit that they may rest from their labours, and their works do 
follow them.' As ye have heard this, so do ye rejoice in being 
able to appropriate its refreshing odour to the memory of the 
pious dead ; so do you resign the husband, the brother, and the 
father, to his bed of kindred dust, animated and consoled by the 
bright believing hope it so tenderly inspires. And may Almighty 
God, the God of love, of pardon and peace, mercifully with his 
favour look upon you ; may he fill you with all spiritual comfort, 
benediction, and grace, that ye may so live in this brief and transient 
life, that in the world to come ye may again behold face to face 
your dear departed relative, and with him enjoy the blessing of 
life everlasting. Amen. 



LBJL'Cb 



